Dead Silence
by Kevvy Talks
Summary: In a moment of vulnerability, Ichigo's Hollow takes control while he's at Orihime's house, opening up the possibility of a future romance.


**Title: Dead Silence**

**Characters/Pairings: Ichigo/Shirosaki/Orihime**

**Genre: Horror/Hurt/Comfort**

**Rating: T. There is fluff at the end. **

**Summary: In a moment of vulnerability, Ichigo allows his Hollow to take control while he's at Orihime's house, opening up the possibility of a future romance.**

**A/N: I'm not a fan of IchiHime, but that aside, I was surprised by how easily this came to me. I hope all of you fans of this pairing and those who are just looking for a good read enjoy this.**

* * *

The first time he lost control, he was lying face-down in _Las Noches _with a hole in his chest, dead-or, at least, _presumably _dead.

_She _saw the whole thing.

When he came to, Uryu was slouched nearby, a bloody heap of what had formally been the distinguished Quincy, now a tattered, bloodied mess. Ulquiorra was, for lack of a better word, missing a few body parts.

Orihime never looked at him quite the same after that.

Through extensive training by somewhat life-threatening means, he regained the power he'd lost. He felt that he should tell someone, but he came up blank when he deliberated who he should disclose this new information to.

The person he was closest to, the only person in the world whom he held such conviction in, he had not seen nor confronted in little over two years.

So, instead of undergoing the hellish trial of facing Kisuke or his father, he took a simple walk across town and came across _her _residence.

He mulled over whether he should just tackle the opportunity while it was at hand, and stood there several inches from the road, hands in his pockets while he procrastinated the inevitable.

There really was no one else he could go to; Orihime was the plausible choice. Yet he hesitated as the sky dimmed.

"Ichigo?" Her voice hadn't changed at all, still as girlish and melodious as the day they'd met. He could have sworn her hair was a shade darker and a few inches longer than he recalled in their last confrontation.

Her thighs were shapely and feminine, emerging from under her school skirt and revealing velvety smooth skin that many a girl would kill to have.

She gazed at him with doe-like eyes, cradling a bag of groceries against her lithe frame. Her bosom hadn't at all reduced in size, its supple mass filling out the confines of her blouse with ease that almost made it unfair as she crossed her arms under them leisurely.

"What are you doing out here this late?" she asked apprehensively. "Won't your dad worry?" He exhaled, taking a straighforward step in her direction.

"Actually, I'm here to see _you. _There's something I want to talk to you about." Orihime acted startled by these words, a look of surprise crossing her fine-looking countenance.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, waving her hands frenetically to obscure her former shock. "Well, okay! C'mon!" She waved him up to the door of her apartment and fumbled with the keys, smiling timidly at him as he walked up to stand by her side. He lackadaisically returned the expression, feeling very awkward in the presence of the female.

After dropping the keys once and scrabbling with the lock-"I need to get it fixed," she laughed it off- Ichigo followed Orihime into her residence and kicked off his shoes onto the matt nearby.

All the while, Orihime studied him attentively. _I wonder why he keeps his hands in his pockets like that, _she wondered. If she didn't know any better, he seemed to do alot of that around her.

Being naive as she was, Orihime didn't think to take this type of body language from Ichigo to mean that he was being cautious about keeping his hands within his own personal space.

There were alot of things about Ichigo that made the bubbly girl very inquisitive about him and keen to learn more, like: why did he like chocolate so much? Guys didn't like chocolate, did they? Even Orihime didn't crave chocolate that much, except, of course, when she was PMSing, then she wanted sweets _all _the time.

And what about his preference in clothing? Orihime had heard from a source that men who wear form-fitting clothing are gay.

But surely Ichigo wasn't gay, was he? Then again, maybe it would explain why he apparantly had no interest in women and hung around Ishida so much...

But that was just Orihime's imagination getting away from her again.

She chastised herself for ever thinking like that. If Ichigo knew, he would surely have a fit.

Whatever his sexual orientation, it wasn't her business. He was her friend, and as his friend she should respect his privacy.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea?" she called over her shoulder, rushing into the kitchen so she should put away the ice cream she'd purchased at the market.

Ichigo watched her as she vanished into the next room, taking the chance to look at his surroundings. _I don't ever remembering being in her new apartment before._

Orihime's new apartment, the one she'd rented out after Sora, then Hollowfied, had destroyed her former residence in a fit of rage. It was such a distant memory, but Ichigo could still recall it in detailed color.

He was almost shocked at how inexperienced he'd been back then, how reluctant he was to kill Sora because he'd been a human being before the ordeal that had spiritually changed him into a soul-eating monster.

Sora was no more, but his memory was forever preserved in the still image of his picture within the shrine Orihime had in her room.

Ichigo's heart ached for her. After all, he could only comprehend her pain too well. There wasn't a day that went by that he wasn't reminded of Masaki for the poster of her contented expression caught still in space, eyes never again to open or look upon the family she'd adored so much in life.

That strawberry blonde hair, so animated in reverie, those full lips and the soothing words she spoke, never to be heard again, and her scent, so faint and sweet, gone, snatched mercilessly from existence.

His mother had been laid down to rest, and, like Sora, she wasn't coming back. She had left behind nothing but bittersweet fragments of herself in her children, who were reminded of her loss almost every day.

Ichigo's throat worked and he immediately brought his hands up to wipe at his eyes as they burned with tears.

_Don't cry, _he told himself. But his body betrayed him, and he trembled as he was assaulted with the guilt and sadness he'd tried so hard to hide for years now.

He went unbeknowst to the presence of his other and the black that creeped into his sclera.

"Ichigo?" Having not got a response to her previous question, Orihime walked back into the foyer, catching sight of Ichigo, who was still standing near the front door, posture uncharacteristically taut.

"Are you alright?" she asked, walking over to his side. When she didn't get an answer, she reached out to touch his shoulder, assuming that maybe he was daydreaming like she did. A hand grabbed hers abruptly, the smack of his skin against hers driving the silence away.

"Ichigo's not here right now!" he said, turning to her with a crazy grin on his face, irises a golden yellow. Orihime felt his spiritual pressure sharpen, and she stumbled back, falling right onto her bottom. Ichigo's Hollow lurched forward, intent on attacking her, and she raised her hands. "**Santen Kesshun!" **

The orange-haired teen slammed into the shield, causing it to crack slightly under the weight. He drew his fist back, and for a moment Orihime was convinced that her barrier would just repel him, when he suddenly increased his _reiatsu, _punching straight through her shield and causing it to shatter into pieces.

She gasped as he grabbed her by the neck, fingers tightening around her throat, and she brought her hands to his arms to try and pull him off. "Ich-Ichi...go!" she chocked out.

She heard his sharp intake of breath, and then she was released. Orihime landed in a crumpled heap on the floor, gasping for air that her lungs took in greedily.

Ichigo sat across from her, stunned as the black in his eyes receded.

He pulled himself forward to his knees and crawled over to his friend, wrapping his arms around her and whispering apologies to her over and over.

Orihime felt him trembling, but despite her out-of-breath state, she managed to twist around in his embrace enough to hug him back.

"It's okay," she murmured. He began spluttering a senseless string of words about how it wasn't alright, but she quashed the onslaught of apologies he was about to say in his moment of self-imposed shame by placing her lips over his mouth.

Ichigo moved his hand from the small of her back to cradle her head, pulling her closer than he'd ever allowed anybody to get.  
The kiss didn't last as long as Orihime would have wished it to, but she held him long after the point anyway, so it made up for all the years that she'd held her feelings inside.

"Thank you, Orihime," he whispered.

She replied after a moment of silence. "No...thank _you, _Ichigo."

_I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you, _she thought.

_And I wouldn't be here if you hadn't stood by my side, _he thought. Dead silence filled the atmosphere, the full moon high in the sky as they embraced. Dead silence was all that hung between them anymore... for they were to afraid to voice their love out loud for everyone that stood in between.


End file.
